


Humanity

by GeekishChic



Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Another Late Night-Another... Something, Crack, Gen, Vaaaague reference to Star Trek Into Darkness behind the scenes, What is even going on?, superwholock AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:57:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekishChic/pseuds/GeekishChic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief debate on the bank of the Thames that takes place during The Great Game Sherlock S1ep3, but slightly before Lestrade properly called him in. The T.A.R.D.I.S is a useful thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this gifset: http://mottal.tumblr.com/post/59353260872/astudyintimelords-superwholock-i-dont-even

 

Sherlock, in what passed for ‘happily’ on his carefully neutral facial expression, scanned the bloated corpse before him with iridescent eyes, used to the sickly sweet smell that always accompanied the dead. Intermittently, he would open his pocket magnifier to scrutinize a particular detail here and there.

The breeze off of the Thames was not forceful, yet dug into the skin with the oblivious severity of a kitten's claws. For the moment he could tune out the incessant prattle of the neck-tied beings allegedly from other planes of existence. They seemed to not only believe who they were, but gave no initially overt signs of being insane. Plus they were a great help and it was difficult to find people these days who weren't completely useless.

"Humans are resilient creatures that will populate the universe someday," The Doctor argued, luxurious chocolate crest seeming perpetually drawn up to the place of which he spoke.

Castiel's cornflower eyes narrowed slightly, head going from curiously cocked to the elongation of his neck. Unseen wings flared in agitation. "They will do nothing if they continue in this fashion, murdering the innocent as well as attempting to destroy that which they don't understand."

"Oh, they'll be fine," drawled The Doctor. "And put those things away before you take John's eye out."

"What things?" John asked, before immediately remembering. "Oh." It was still hard to recall that The Doctor could at times perceive that which was invisible to the human eye. He wondered, with a fond twitch of a smirk, whether that meant when Sherlock was in hardcore machine mode as he was now, the lanky mop-topped brunette would be able to see them, too.

They seemed not to notice him and Castiel went on, "How could you know they'll be fine when _I_ don't even know?"

"I've seen it, of course."

"You've seen what God allows you to see," the Vessel Formerly Known As Jimmy Novak retorted.

"Which is more than you see, apparently." Cas knew about 'douchebags' from the teachings of his best friend Dean Winchester. One had to be forceful with them.

"Castiel. Angel of the Lord. No."

"Doctor. Time Lord. Yeah!"

Despite his being at least five inches shorter than all of the others at this impromptu meeting of the Cool Coat Convention, Captain John H. Watson MD cut a rather imposing figure when necessary. The ashen blond soldier (not "ex", not really because once one has been through all he has, one never really stops being one because of enlistment status) drew himself up and out in a manner approaching ruffled wing feathers himself. His presence gently superseded the others and they bowed to the quiet intensity in his commanding voice. He knew how to handle overgrown children, thank you very much Sherlock.

"Alright, alright. Girls, calm down," he chided in a manner that may have been misconstrued as soft , grasping his hands behind his back at perpetual parade rest. "You do realize you're arguing in favour of the same thing, don't you?"

The two taller forms were a bit surprised by how, in order to properly meet the cobalt glower they had to sort of look up to look down at him. Castiel was confused but unquestioning as a soldier himself and The Doctor, running long flustered fingers through gravity-defying locks, stuck a figurative pushpin in that paradox to be worked out later.

John Watson, The Doctor thought to himself with an amused little smile. Bigger on the inside.

"Same thing?" The Doctor queried finally.

"Well, yes." John cleared his throat lightly. "You both believe humans are better off without all of the, erm, murder. Of course Sherlock would beg to differ because then he’d be robbed of his favourite hobby but... there you are." There was no time for either party to respond in the wake of Sherlock raising himself dramatically to his full six feet and attempting to loom over the bickering crowd. His feet crunched over the gravel bank as he began long, purposeful strides toward the alley where the T.A.R.D.I.S was standing guard. John followed first, then the others.

"Doctor," Sherlock began, eyes rabidly scanning his phone, fingers flying over the keys of it, "I need you to take me to the mid sixteen-hundreds to confirm something. I'll give you an exact date in a moment. Castiel, when we return, ask your Winchesters about ways to slay a Golem."

“One has only to locate the Divine Name within it and remove it-” Everyone halted when Sherlock did to swing toward what the Consulting Detective viewed as merely a human-shaped tumbler full of energy as yet to be discovered on Earth.

“I’m well aware of the lore, Castiel,” The name almost seemed to burn his tongue. It didn’t however, because Sherlock Holmes was, ultimately, on his side, though the arrogant arse loathed to admit it. “If it was that simple I wouldn’t be asking for you to seek advice from those American… ruffians, would I?”

“They aren’t ruffians.” Turning slowly back to his phone, Sherlock let his eyes linger as his head moved until the last possible moment, attempting to ascertain this being’s seemingly profound bond with the brothers, especially the older one. It was filed away in the storage room of his mind palace for later consideration. Snappily punching ‘send’, he pushed his hands into the pockets of his charcoal greatcoat and continued walking, everyone trailing once more.

“Doctor, I shall need you to take me to-”

"Well," the word on The Doctor's lips was extended and a bit higher pitched than the rest of his sentence. "She hasn't been feeling altogether well, lately. I can't be sure she'll get us to an exact date until I've had a better look at her."

"Well then just reverse the polarity of the neutron cream or whatever it is you do," Sherlock advised impatiently, rolling his eyes.

"If I'm honest, I still can't believe you fell for that one, Sherly." The Doctor's gleeful giggle blended in perfect three part harmony with John's slightly higher one and Castiel's rather raspy snicker. It made Sherlock’s hackles rise.

"How was I to know what sort of malady I could have contracted from being in close proximity to alien bacteria?" Sherlock asked defensively, letting his footfalls  grow a bit heavier in the early stages  of what had the potential to become a magnificent strop.

"Rule number one," Castiel reminded him. "The Doctor lies. Even I know that and I'm not even the 'World's Only Consulting Detective'." Castiel scratched quotes into the air around the title. "About that rule, Doctor..."


End file.
